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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27463153">these battle scars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkedinserendipity/pseuds/inkedinserendipity'>inkedinserendipity</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Penumbra Podcast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hurt/Comfort, Other, and juno fistfighting said anxiety with her, basically: the carte blanche crew learns a little more about the souls, but like. internally, emotionally intimate dancing, nureyev is :knife: at sarah steel for several thousand words, ramses o'flaherty rot challenge, rita [REDACTED]'s constant stream of anxiety, the author has listened to the soul of the people enough times, the theia souls, to name several of the people who signed off on them from memory</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:55:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,348</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27463153</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkedinserendipity/pseuds/inkedinserendipity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been months since the incident in Newtown, and while the Spectrum and the Soul are gone, their scars linger.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aurinko Crime Family &amp; Juno Steel, Buddy Aurinko &amp; Juno Steel, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, Rita &amp; Juno Steel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>191</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Mista <em>Steel</em>, hurry up, you’re takin’ forever!”</p><p>“Not my fault you eat enough snacks for five people all on your own, Rita, that makes my job a little more difficult!”</p><p>Rita scoffs audibly from the other room. Juno finishes dumping her heart-attack-in-a-snack into a bowl and brushes into the streaming room, three bowls balanced between two arms. He passes one off to Nureyev, the other to Rita, and in the middle of handing the third to Jet, his shoulder seizes and he drops it.</p><p>“Oh, goddamn it,” he swears, swatting for it on instinct and hissing through his teeth as he misses. His hand goes to his shoulder, like digging his fingers into the joints will make him feel better. “Shit. Sorry, Jet.”</p><p>“It is not a problem, Juno,” Jet says, and stands, bowl in hand. “I will refill it.”</p><p>Juno sits on the couch by Nureyev, a guilty frown twisting across his face as he massages his shoulder. Stupid injury. Stupid body.  Now there’s old Earth popcorn scattered around where Jet sat, breaching the cushion that holds Vespa and Buddy, and mostly Juno feels like an idiot.</p><p>“Juno, are you all right, love?”</p><p>“Fine,” Juno grunts, rotating his shoulder experimentally as the pain fades. “Sorry, guys.”</p><p>“That doesn’t look fine, Steel,” Vespa interjects.</p><p>“Yeah, well, it’s an old injury,” Juno says. Rita’s being quiet. Too quiet. “Like, <em>really</em> old.”</p><p>“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tell me about it, Steel!”</p><p>“It’s not normally a big deal! At least I wasn’t making a shot when that happened!”</p><p>“You do understand how even that possibility is <em>bad</em>, right?”</p><p>“Lay off,” Juno snaps. At his side, Rita has shrunk in on herself, and guilt claws its way up his throat. “Leave it, Vespa. We’ll talk about this later.”</p><p>“Oh, really? When exactly <em>is</em> later, Steel? Because when you say later you tend to mean the soonest you can escape—”</p><p>“Tomorrow,” Juno says firmly. He looks Vespa dead in the eye, willing her to accept his excuse. “Damn it, I’ll—I’ll come to the medbay first thing in the morning. It’s an old injury.” He pitches his voice emphatically. “From <em>way</em> back when. Like, back when I put myself up as a punching bag for the HCPD. Years and years ago.”</p><p>“Don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if you happen to <em>forget</em> this particular appointment,” Vespa growls, twirling her knife between her fingers. </p><p>“Definitely not, I hear you loud and clear,” Juno promises, relieved when Jet steps back into the room, carrying two full bowls of cinnamon-chocolate-cherry popcorn. Rita’s favorite. She accepts them wordlessly.</p><p>The room falls silent. Nureyev is looking at him, that furrow between his brows that means he’s thinking. Juno ignores him. “Uh, Rita?”</p><p>“O-oh, right!” Rita fumbles for the remote and flips the stream on, then picks up one of the twelve pillows scattered around her and holds it to her chest.</p><p>Juno watches her for a moment. She very pointedly does not look at him, or anyone else in the room. Now Buddy is watching him watch Rita, but he ignores both her <em>and</em> Nureyev, because this is none of their goddamn business, and slips off the couch to join her on the floor. “Mind if I sit here?” he whispers underneath the opening sequence.</p><p>Rita takes a deep breath. “’Course not, boss.”</p><p>Juno grabs a pillow in solidarity. Onscreen, the title rolls, and Rita doesn’t say a word. No running commentary, no excited detailing. Damn it.</p><p>Juno leans over and whispers, “That was from years ago, Rita. Like, a really long time ago.” </p><p>Rita squishes her pillow, lips set. “That ain’t the only time you’ve hurt your shoulder, Mista Steel.”</p><p>“No,” he agrees, “but it is the big one.”</p><p>“It wasn’t actin’ up at <em>all</em> until that whole business in—” </p><p>“First of all, yes it was,” Juno interrupts, voice fierce and quiet. He won’t let her blame herself for this. “Not as often, sure, but I’ve dropped shots because of my shoulder before. And besides, that whole mess wasn’t even your fault.” </p><p>“But it was my idea, Mista Steel! If—if I’d been able to figure somethin’ out—”</p><p>“There wasn’t anything else. And if we can’t think of anything now, months later, we wouldn’t have been able to come up with anything else then.” </p><p>“I just hate it,” Rita whispers. “I hate seein’ your shoulder actin’ up and I hate seein’ you limpin’ around, boss. I hate it.” </p><p>“Again: not your fault. Old injuries, Rita. If I’d taken care of myself before all that mess, it wouldn’t be nearly as bad.” </p><p>“I know, it’s just....”</p><p>“Besides. I’ve been limping around for years.” He elbows her, grins when she looks at him, tentative in a way she very rarely is. “Remember when we rented that hoverboard for me to try out?” </p><p>“And you fell off from a whole buncha feet up and scraped your cheeks real bad? Yeah, I remember.”</p><p>“Just don’t tell Ransom, would you? Because he definitely thinks those scars were heroic, and between you and me I’d prefer to let him keep thinking that.” </p><p>Rita smiles, sniffles. “Okay, Mista Steel. I can keep your secret.” </p><p>“I know, Rita. I trust you.” </p><p>He’s talking about keeping the dumb secret of the scuffles high on his cheekbone, of course, but he’s also talking about way more than that. </p><p>From the way her whole face softens, she knows.</p><p>“Thanks, boss.” </p><p>“Of course, Rita. Now c’mon, you can’t be comfortable on the floor like that.”</p><p>“Sure I am!” she insists, but follows him up onto the couch, leaning against the cushions. “This is better though,” she says, and bonks her head against his shoulder. Actually, with her height, more like his elbow.</p><p>“Ow,” he grumbles, so fake that she snorts and pokes his ribs. “Hey!”</p><p>“Shhh,” she hisses, finger now at her lips, smile more real on her face. “You keep talkin’ and I keep missin’ the stream!”</p><p>“You’ve seen it a dozen times already!”</p><p>“But I have not,” Jet interjects, gaze fixed on the screen. “And as such, I would appreciate some silence.”</p><p>Juno gapes at this betrayal, a string of indignant noises trailing from his mouth. “Every time,” he whispers, “every time I decide to trust the big guy, try to get a guy’s <em>name</em> after he gives you his comms and <em>still</em> get turned down—”</p><p>“Juno. Please.”</p><p>“Fine! Fine. Why not,” Juno grumbles, subsiding into a faux-resentful silence. Against his shoulder, Rita giggles again, and Juno relaxes, absurdly proud of himself.</p><p>Buddy’s gaze has switched to the screen, but out of the corner of his eye Juno notices Nureyev still watching him. He turns his head. “What?”</p><p>Nureyev shakes out of it, a small smile gracing his lips. “Nothing, love,” he says, returning his attention to the stream as well. For a moment Juno frowns after him, then shrugs and lets it go. Instead, he steals a handful of Rita’s snacks, just to suffer through her furious whisper-yelling, dodging with a laugh as she tries to steal them back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Wait. Hashemi. He knows that name, doesn’t he?</p>
<p>Nureyev asks something about the jewel itself, fingers drumming on the tabletop inches from Juno’s own. Juno frowns, brows knit as he thinks. Moira Hashemi. He’s heard that name before. When? Maybe a previous client, but Juno remembers all his clients. Friend of a client, maybe?<br/>Juno keeps scrolling through the documents, struggling to remember. It feels so familiar, it feels important, but he can’t…quite….</p>
<p>Evolving security. High-tech defenses. Moira Hashemi.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tread carefully with this one, folks: got a panic attack, some allusions to past suicidal ideation, and the first half is basically one character talking another down from, well, aforementioned panic attack. It gets sappier toward the end though, shoutout to Nureyev! (Also Buddy for being a very good + perceptive leader.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nureyev hums thoughtfully, gaze darting keenly through the documents Buddy has sent them all. He flips through the files, landing on the floor plan as Juno scrolls down to the bios of their targets. There are a few people of interest running this particular mansion: Charles Fletching, Ngobi Ifeoma, and some of their relatives, most of whom live off-property.</p>
<p>“Am I to assume the Water’s Jewel is held in the vault, then?”</p>
<p>“We’re not sure,” Buddy admits. “That is, obviously, where precious gems are typically stored. However, it seems a little…obvious.”</p>
<p>“Maybe they’re idiots,” Juno suggests. “Maybe this one will be straightforward.”</p>
<p>“As much as I admire your optimism, darling, I don’t quite share it. Several of the residents have proved themselves quite competent with technology, and as such, much like Miss Zolatovna’s ball, I cannot definitively vouch for the accuracy of the plans. Ransom, I would recommend memorizing them as per usual, darling, but do be ready to improvise.”</p>
<p>Juno takes a long sip of coffee, still flipping through the brief. Close relatives, previous acquisitions, security measures. He pulls up that last. “Rita, did you look into it?”</p>
<p>“Sure did, boss! It wasn’t too tricky, but there were a coupla things I ain’t seen before. Kinda like…” Rita trails off. “Well. The information you’ve got right now’s definitely updated to right now, but I’ll keep working as you two move through the mansion. Just in case!”</p>
<p>“Good,” Juno says distractedly. So long as Rita’s on the case, Juno’s not worried. He scrolls through the security details more closely, tracking past estates of the mansion’s owners. There are a few threads, and a few names that keep popping up in their measures: Tiffany Revelio, Sophie Orion, Moira Hashemi….</p>
<p>Wait. Hashemi. He knows that name, doesn’t he?</p>
<p>Nureyev asks something about the jewel itself, fingers drumming on the tabletop inches from Juno’s own. Juno frowns, brows knit as he thinks. Moira Hashemi. He’s heard that name before. When? Maybe a previous client, but Juno remembers all his clients. Friend of a client, maybe?</p>
<p>Juno keeps scrolling through the documents, struggling to remember. It feels so familiar, it feels <em>important</em>, but he can’t…quite….</p>
<p>Evolving security. High-tech defenses. Moira Hashemi.</p>
<p>Juno freezes. Then, deliberately, he closes his pad. “Buddy,” he says, hearing his own voice come out strangled, “I don’t think I’ll be able to join Ransom on this case.”</p>
<p>Buddy frowns at him. “Is something wrong?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Juno says, heart pounding in his throat. They’re all staring at him but he looks at Rita, struggling for the words to explain. He flounders, then gives up and pushes the pad toward her, hands shaking. </p>
<p>It takes her a long moment, too, but she figures it out more quickly than he had. “Oh, Mista Steel—”</p>
<p>“I’m okay, Rita,” he says, lying, and stands, toppling the chair behind him.</p>
<p>Nureyev’s eyes are wide, and Juno feels awful. “Juno?”</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” he says shakily, not trusting himself to call Nureyev by the right name right now. “I’m okay. I’m gonna—I’m gonna leave.”</p>
<p>“Mista Steel,” Rita says firmly. “You ain’t all right and you don’t gotta lie about that.”</p>
<p>“You—” Juno is struggling for air. He looks like an idiot. Gasping, he manages, “You’re fired.”</p>
<p>“Oh, good!” Rita chirps, standing immediately. “Captain A, I’ve just been fired so I gotta go.”</p>
<p>“Darling, I’m afraid I don’t—” </p>
<p>“Not right now, it doesn’t have to be right now, I can just—I can just go,” Juno says wildly. His heartbeat roars in his ears. He needs to be anywhere but here. In his head he hears <em>GIVE UP CONTROL—</em></p>
<p>“No, I’m thinkin’ this is a right now kinda thing,” Rita says kindly, and takes his hand in hers. God, her hands are so small. She turns to Buddy and Nureyev, and at the sight of Nureyev, looking as close to scared as Peter Ransom ever gets, in the back of his head he hears <em>a good trick, an old trick, one I learned from-from-from-from— </em>“I don’t think this mission’s a good idea anymore, Captain! Their security is gonna be <em>real</em> hard to crack, but I ain’t the Captain so I’ll let you figure it out.”</p>
<p>There’s a corner of him that is mortified about this. The rest of him is battling down the urge to run away, where he can’t be a danger, where he can’t hurt any of them, where he can’t hurt Nureyev any worse than he already has, where he can’t hunt Rita down and try to force her—and try to—</p>
<p>Rita leads him out of the room, and he has enough presence of mind to be grateful for that, sinking immediately against the wall. Like this, Rita is nearly as tall as he is, and part of him wants to laugh about that because for such an incredible force she is so tiny. <em>Size three; evidence of small foot—</em></p>
<p>“Mista Steel, you ain’t there anymore,” Rita is saying gently, one hand on his shoulder, his good one, and Juno flinches back, terrified that he—that he’s— “C’mon, boss, breathe with me.”</p>
<p>“Not your boss,” Juno gasps. “Damn it, Rita, I can’t—I can’t do it—”</p>
<p>“And you don’t gotta, Mista Steel,” Rita says reassuringly. “Captain A will figure somethin’ out. You ain’t ever gettin’ near that awful tech ever again, I promise.”</p>
<p>Juno can’t help it; he laughs sharply, bitterly. “And how do you know that? How do you know something else like that won’t happen? They’re still out there, those people that signed off on those documents, and I nearly <em>killed</em> you, Rita, I nearly killed everyone in the whole <em>galaxy</em> because some stupid <em>voice</em> told me—”</p>
<p>“That wasn’t you, Mista Steel,” Rita says sharply, cutting him off. “And even if you’d succeeded it wouldn’ta been your fault. It woulda been Mr. ex-Mayor O’Takanety’s fault, you <em>know</em> that. That whole business ain’t your fault. It <em>ain’t</em>.”</p>
<p>He laughs helplessly. How does she <em>do</em> that? How is she so—so bright, so optimistic? It’s going to get her killed one day, like it got—he has to protect her and he nearly <em>killed</em> her—</p>
<p>Rita leans against him slowly, and Juno surprises himself by dropping his forehead onto her shoulder. God, she smells like salmon. It’s disgusting and so familiar that he breathes deep. She’s alive, he reassures himself. He’s alive, too. And he’s happy about that. He’s not a single droplet any longer; he’s one of six, each of them stars in their own right.</p>
<p>“We’re goin’ for the Curemother Prime,” Rita says, low and quiet, one of her arms winding around his shoulders. “We’re gonna help all those people like Miss Vespa, gonna get them away from the megapharms who wanna steal all their money to keep themselves alive, and maybe it ain’t somethin’ you’d see on a stream, Mista Steel, because those big companies tend to be the ones payin’ for the streams, but we’re doin’ good all the same. We’re doin’ so much good. And you’re doin’ so much better, and I’m proud of you.”</p>
<p>Juno mirrors her breathing, willing his heartbeat to steady. Beneath his feet the engines of the <em>Carte Blanche</em> hum, a familiar murmuring vibration that shakes all the way through his bones. Juno takes a deep breath. “Right,” he says shakily. “We’re gonna…we’re gonna help people. We still…do that.”</p>
<p>“Sure do, boss! Just like we used to, except on a <em>way</em> bigger scale now. It’s just like this stream we saw once way back in the day where the hero tried to fight Pandora’s box to get rid of all the evils in the whole <em>world</em> and I mean they failed of course ‘cause you can’t get rid of all evils ever, but we’re gettin’ rid of one <em>real</em> big one and we’re gonna succeed too! ‘Cause we ain’t stream stars, we’re real people. Which makes us even <em>better</em> than stream stars.”</p>
<p>Juno huffs a quiet laugh. “You sound like Buddy,” he tells her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Yeah, me ‘n Captain A get ice cream whenever we go planetside. She thinks real strange about a whole lotta things but she’s real wise. Not quite as smart as me but way wiser. Always got some weird thing to say that only makes sense when I think about it for a coupla days.”</p>
<p>“She scares me,” Juno murmurs.</p>
<p>Rita snorts. “You’d gotta be an idiot for her to not scare you just a little,” Rita says, patting his head. “But that don’t mean she don’t love you, and that don’t mean you don’t love her either. You scared me for a while whenever you went out tryin’ to get yourself killed but I still loved you anyway, didn’t I?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Juno says, breathless with the ease of her words. He sits back, forehead suddenly cold where the fabric of her sweater is suddenly gone from it, and manages a smile. “Thanks, Rita. I dunno how many more times I’m gonna have to say it, but, uh…thank you.”</p>
<p>“’Course, boss! And you <em>know</em> there ain’t an upper bound on the number’a times you gotta tell me thank you. You could keep tellin’ me thank you for the rest of my life and I wouldn’t get tired of it, not once.”</p>
<p>“Sure. What about about all the things you gotta do to help me, though? Ever gonna…ever gonna get tired of that?”</p>
<p>Rita’s already shaking her head. “Don’t be silly, boss. ‘Sides, if I did that, who would watch all those streams with me or help me paint my nails at three in the mornin’ when most people are asleep or listen when I talk about me ‘n Franny and help me rob some of these pharma megacorps, huh? Who’d pile me with those blankets when I fall asleep at my desk? No one, that’s who.”</p>
<p>“You weren’t supposed to notice that,” Juno mutters, remembering the thick red blankets he’d stocked in their office. True, sometimes Rita would fall asleep at her desk and he’d tuck one around her shoulders, but that—that was way back when. It was the least he could do.</p>
<p>“Ain’t nothin’ gets past Rita,” she says primly, then helps him to his feet. “You wanna go help ‘em plan a new heist or d’you wanna go finish the third season of our Andromeda run, Mista Steel?”</p>
<p>“I…” Juno hesitates, ignoring the instinctive desire to return to his quarters and ball himself up on his bed and bury himself in blankets and wilt until dinner. “Let’s watch some streams. And maybe…maybe not Andromeda this time.”</p>
<p>“Ooh, you’re <em>right</em> Mista Steel! I’ve been meanin’ to rewatch <em>We Gave A Lion A Gun</em> for a while now but I ain’t ever made time so this is perfect! C’mon, I got a hidden stash of real cozy blankets and if I fall asleep on the couch you gotta bury me in ‘em so I can die happy.” She grabs his hand and tugs him down the hall, chattering on about the lion and the gun—sometimes Juno forgets just how much Rita <em>knows</em> about guns, nearly as much as him—as Juno trails behind, quietly listening.</p>
<p>She parks him on the couch, then flits around the room assembling her cushions and pillows and blankets and at one point a hand-knit sweater that is definitely not her size, way too big for her and too big for Juno, that she shoves at him and tells him to put on. He does. It’s…nice. Soft. He fiddles with the hem as she sets up the stream, and relaxes when she finally hops up onto the couch next to him, tossing her feet across his lap.</p>
<p>The hours trickle past, Rita’s auto-play feature taking over after she falls into an unceremonious nap. Sure, she snores, and sure, she <em>does</em> kick in her sleep, but Juno doesn’t move her. She looks comfortable, and besides. This way, he…he knows she’s not hurt.</p>
<p>He’s halfway through the third movie in the series when the door cycles open almost silently. For a moment Juno tenses, an old ebb of panic welling, until soft footsteps pad and stop at the couch, and Nureyev sits gently on the cushion beside Juno that’s not full of Rita.</p>
<p>Juno looks over. Nureyev looks a little tired, but then again, it’s nearing the ship’s night cycle, so he probably should be. “Hey,” Juno whispers.</p>
<p>“Hello, Juno,” Nureyev replies, voice quiet. He nods toward the screen. “Anything interesting on?”</p>
<p>“Documentary on the top three ways to kill off a colosseum full of people by giving a lion a gun,” Juno says wryly. “So no. Nothing interesting. Did…did you and Buddy, uh, figure something out?”</p>
<p>“We’ve scrapped the mission,” Nureyev says, settling back into the cushions and snagging a pillow from the mound piled on Juno’s lap, careful not to disturb Rita’s sprawled feet. “Upon further investigation we decided that the shifting security measures were a little too, shall we say, intimidating for our group.”</p>
<p>“Nothing Rita couldn’t have handled.”</p>
<p>“Of course not,” Nureyev concedes, a small smile flickering across his face. “But given that the two of you seemed rather uncomfortable with the task, our Captain decided that calling it off was best.”</p>
<p>Juno winces. “It’s really not that bad, I just—y’know. Bad memories. Rita could’ve pulled it off.”</p>
<p>“And if something had gone wrong, Juno? What would have happened then?”</p>
<p>Juno bites his lip, hard. Onscreen, the same stock sound effect of a lion roaring plays, but Rita keeps right on snoring through it. Probably used to falling asleep to streams. She never seemed to have any problems napping in their office. Come to think of it, she’d never fallen asleep at her desk at the HCPD, had she?</p>
<p>Maybe once upon a time that realization would’ve ticked him off. Now, he adjusts the blanket over her shins and sighs. “Fair enough.”</p>
<p>“We’ll rendezvous with one of Buddy’s contacts on Sirius before the week is out. They reached out a few days ago for an opportunity that we’re going to follow up on.”</p>
<p>Juno snorts. “Changed her mind about how valuable the mission was, did she?”</p>
<p>“Some new factors came into play,” Nureyev says, and when Juno leans back he adds, “whatever happened was not your fault, Juno.”</p>
<p>“You have too much faith in me, Ransom.”</p>
<p>“I may not know what happened, but I do know you,” Nureyev murmurs. “This crew is adaptable. Besides, this particular heist was more of a diversion than anything. A chance for us to stretch our limbs, shall we say. Truly good thieving is like a muscle; it should be exercised regularly.”</p>
<p>Juno snorts. “You sound like Buddy.”</p>
<p>“I sound,” Nureyev corrects, “like Mag.”</p>
<p>Juno stares. Nureyev watches the screen, expression unbothered, but Juno catches a hint of tension along his jaw. After a long moment, Juno looks back at the stream, too.</p>
<p>Gunfire lights up the screen. The old-fashioned kind, with gunpowder and those metal things called bullets, not the lasers most civilized people use today. Another roar, the same stock noise, and the screen goes white as the colosseum, not for the first time, explodes.</p>
<p>“They were called the THEIA,” Juno says quietly. Nureyev doesn’t look over, but Juno knows he’s listening all the same. “The THEIA—well, I had two, but this one was called the Soul. Hashemi was, uh, one of the people that…” Juno gestures vaguely with one hand. “That worked on them, I guess.”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t seem pleasant.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you could say that,” Juno snorts bitterly. “And not just for me, either. For….” He trails off, mouth dry, chest aching. “I almost hurt her. Badly.”</p>
<p>Out of the corner of his eye Juno sees Nureyev turn to him, face crinkled in…not pity, but sympathy. Quiet understanding. “I’m sorry, Juno.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, me too.” Juno fidgets with the fringe of the sweater that, now that he thinks about it, must belong to Jet. “I care about her, y’know? And now, with the whole crew, I just...I can’t do anything like that, ever again. Not to her, not to this crew, and not to you.” Juno takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>Nureyev goes still. He’s not apologizing for his meltdown during their mission brief, and both Juno and Nureyev are aware of that fact. He is apologizing for something much, much deeper.</p>
<p>“So you’ve said already,” Nureyev murmurs. “I wish I could have been there, Juno, for whatever you went through. I wish I could have helped.”</p>
<p>Juno almost laughs. He thinks of the plasma knife he brought with him when he voyaged back to Hyperion City, of the way he’d plucked Rita’s comms from her pocket. He settles for grinning wryly instead. “Yeah, well, I’m glad you weren’t there. It was basically as unpleasant as it gets.”</p>
<p>Nureyev tilts his head. He takes a breath, then lets it out, and says, “Then I suppose I’m just happy you weren’t alone for it.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Juno says, as Rita sleep-murmurs something that sounds like a line from an action scene. “Yeah, me too.”</p>
<p>Onscreen, a lion prowls around a dusty desert. The clip is familiar from the first two movies, and Juno is sure it’ll make an appearance in the fourth, fifth, and however many damn sequels they’ve made, too. Beneath them, the <em>Carte Blanche</em> hums, the blankets shift, and somewhere in the distances comes the sound of swearing as a metallic bang sounds from the hangar.</p>
<p>Silently, Nureyev takes Juno’s hand in his own, winding their fingers together. He relaxes, in degrees, against the arm of the cushion. Juno wordlessly passes him a few pillows, and gets a small smile for his efforts. Careful not to disturb Rita, Juno half-leans, half-falls over, resting his head against Nureyev’s arm.</p>
<p>So they watch the stream, though neither of them are really watching. Juno gives up pretty quickly, closing his eye, until Nureyev turns the volume down to little more than a whisper. Then, gently, two fingers tuck under his chin, and as they tilt his face up Juno goes unresistingly, a small smile creasing his face as Nureyev presses a gentle kiss to his lips.</p>
<p>Juno extricates a hand and cups the corner of Nureyev’s jaw. The kiss is little more than chaste presses of their mouths together, lingering and sweet, and Juno melts into it. The shape of them is strange for the smile on Juno’s mouth, a stubborn little thing, but Nureyev brushes his lips to the corner of Juno’s mouth, the bow of his lips, and Juno runs a thumb along Nureyev’s cheekbone, chasing his lips with a persistence that earns him a fond laugh.</p>
<p>When it ends Nureyev rests his forehead against the bridge of Juno’s nose, and with the volume down, Juno can hear his quiet breathing. The small tugging smile on his lips doesn’t want to fade, and for once, Juno doesn’t force it, basking in the warmth of this moment.</p>
<p>Into the silence his brother’s words echo faintly, a welcome rejoinder to the grating memory of the THEIA’s siren song: <em>sometimes the car stops, and you wish you could stay there forever</em>.</p>
<p>Back then, in Hanataba’s, there weren’t many moments like those that Juno could remember, not after Benzaiten died. All of the ones that did involved Rita, of course. But there’s a new awareness to this moment, that this will be one of those good memories: Rita’s legs sprawled over his, one of her cherished streams humming in the background, Nureyev’s forehead pressed to his, their soft intermingling breaths, and the <em>Carte Blanche</em> around them, steady and true.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>buddy's pov throughout the first scene was basically just "ah. we will not be doing this mission, then. good to know."</p>
<p>nureyev's was just a nice long extended yell of concern. he sat with buddy long enough to work out an alternative and left literally as soon as he politely could. buddy started laughing as soon as he left. it's like the line in heart of it all part 2 where buddy's like "if ransom's acting he's in a league of crime far outside my own" she's watching him leave like "well, there he goes. exactly what i expected."</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The O'Flaherty Fund is galactic.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“But, as you know, the proceeds of tonight’s gala will be given to <em> charity</em>,” announces the gentleman onstage, with the particular inflection of those convinced that they are far above such things. “Each bidder will have their choice between three of those charities supported by the Galactic Federation, including the Outer Rim Peace Fund, the Intergalactic Fund for the Underserved, and the O’Flaherty Memorial Fund,” she says, and Juno sets down his drink and mutters “Oh god <em> damn </em> it.”</p><p>Buddy looks at him sideways. Radiant as ever in a floor-length emerald gown, she looks untouchable, and Juno envies her. “Darling?”</p><p>Juno slaps his comms. “You hear that?”</p><p>“Yeah, boss,” Rita says despondently. “You gonna be alright?”</p><p>“No,” Juno grumbles, dropping his forehead to the table. One of Buddy’s hands shifts to pat his shoulder.</p><p>“Mhmm, real convincin’,” Rita says dryly. “Get up, Mista Steel, you can sulk later.”</p><p>“I’m not sulking.”</p><p>“I’m not certain what’s happening on the other end of that line, darling, but I can attest that you most certainly are.”</p><p>Juno levels Buddy his most deeply unimpressed look. “Oh gee, thanks, <em> Ontaria</em>.”</p><p>She toasts him with her half-full champagne. As if summoned, a waitress quickly refills her glass, and the smile Buddy levels at them is dazzling. “That last was for your mayor, if my memory serves, dear Diana.”</p><p>“Your memory serves,” Juno confirms quietly. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Just kinda a slap to the face, you know?”</p><p>“No,” Buddy admits, “but I can imagine, darling. Another hors d’ouevre?”</p><p>“Only if it comes with a side of whiskey.”</p><p>"Not on the menu, I'm afraid.”</p><p>“Yeah, thanks, Bud, I already checked.”</p><p>She flashes him a grin, and despite himself Juno finds himself hiding a rueful smile of his own. By all appearances she turns back to the auction, which despite her reassurances Juno is still pretty sure she set up to prove to Nureyev that she and Juno could do it better (though Nureyev had protested less than Juno expected—Buddy mentioned something about a gown?), but she keeps half an eye on him during the next few rounds, which for her is quite the investment, considering she’s only really got the one.</p><p>The fourth time someone donates to the O’Flaherty fund, which is seven rounds in, Juno sets down his tragically whiskey-less drink and mutters, low and fervent, “I hate this.”</p><p>“Mm. Looking for a distraction?”</p><p>“Hardly time for a dance around here, Bud.”</p><p>Buddy turns and studies him for a moment, then turns back to the podium. With a quick nudge she activates her comms and whispers something too quiet to hear. Immediately Juno goes on the defensive. “What did you just do?”</p><p>She looks wounded. The absolute picture of innocence. And he would believe her if he hadn’t seen her wear the exact same look mere minutes before conning the pearls off half-a-dozen politicians’ wives. “Whyever do you think I’m working against you, Diana dear?”</p><p>“Because I <em> know </em> you!” Juno accuses, then deliberately lowers his tone when a handful of auction-goers turn to stare at them. “Ontaria. I’m <em> fine</em>.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sure,” Buddy says smoothly, and sips at her champagne, giving nothing away. Juno groans, long and heartfelt, and slumps back over the table.</p><p>And nearly jumps out of his skin when Rita shouts “<em>Mista Steel </em> you should’ve told me you wanted a heist-time story you <em> know </em> how much I love tellin’ stories!”</p><p>Juno curses and fumbles for the volume on his comms, taking a moment to be devoutly grateful for Small Fry and the lessons he learned in the Newtown sewers. He whips around to glare at Buddy, who is smothering a laugh into her drink. In a low whisper he hisses, “I don’t need a heist story, Rita—”</p><p>“Well that’s <em> too bad</em>, ‘cause you’re getting one anyway! Whaddya wanna hear about? I’ve got a bunch you might like. A whole buncha them have thieves and <em> oh! Oh! </em> Mista Ransom get over here we gotta tell Mista Steel a story!”</p><p>There’s a vague noise of Nureyev-like interest in the background, and Juno buries his face in the ornate tablecloth. “I hate you,” he grunts at Buddy, who really does laugh, a delicate sound like tinkling bells that sounds nothing like her <em> actual </em> laugh, the one that Vespa pulls from her, on those best of days. “I hate you forever.”</p><p>“My dearest Diana,” she says, still smiling wide, “you were always such a troublemaker. Enjoy your story, darling, I’ll deal with the sale.”</p><p>“Great. Not even needed for this, now, am I? Just dead weight.”</p><p>“Oh, hush,” Buddy scolds. “Your time comes later. For now, I’ll take care of this.”</p><p>He knows what she’s doing. She’s not exactly <em> subtle</em>. She can be, when she wants to, but this—putting Rita up to <em> storytime </em> during a <em> heist</em>—isn’t subtle at all. She’s distracting him, with the people he loves best in the world.</p><p>Later he’ll have to thank her. For right now, he settles for glowering in her direction as, in his ear, Rita and Nureyev continue their increasingly-spirited discussion of the themes of whatever story they’re about to regale Juno with. Whatever the final product might be, they’ve both decided that it will feature a rather unusual starring duo of a master thief and a fabulously gorgeous hacker-criminal-secretary-detective.</p><p>Juno groans and buries his face in his arms and settles in for a long, long heist.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>will i ever use an alias for juno that doesn't reference artemis, goddess of the hunt? perhaps. (no.) </p><p>somewhere offscreen after this, rita starts devising a heist with the rest of the carte blanche crew to tank the memorial fund and distribute it to more worthy causes. do they tell juno this? no. does he find out anyway? yes, and when he finds out he does cry. god he loves this family.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>juno voice: rita is <em>not</em> allowed to be sad. ever.</p><p>if you liked this, drop your favorite line in the comments! also, catch me on tumblr at <a href="http://inkedinserendipity.tumblr.com">inkedinserendipity</a> for more of this nonsense</p></blockquote></div></div>
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